Morning Sickness
by Quills and Scrolls
Summary: All she had wanted was to bring him home. What she got was one blissful night with the boy she loved, before he had cast her out with a threat that he would disappear for good if she ever told where he was. Fate had other plans.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own _Smallville; _it is without prejudice property of The WB (2001–06), The CW (2006–11), Jerry Siegel, Joe Shuster, _DC Comics, _Alfred Gough, Miles Millar_, __Tollin/Robbins Productions__Warner Bros. Television__._ I own nothing I merely borrowing a group of fascinating characters. I will return them relatively unscathed…well I return them anyway. No money is made from this and no infringement of copyright is intended. This will be removed if contacted. This story is not for monetary gain but purely for enjoyment purposes. I claim no ownership with exception to my own original characters and ideas. All recognizable characters are not mine, merely my own creations. Nor do I own the _Phillies_ just a fan. I own nothing I merely borrowing a group of fascinating characters. I will return them relatively unscathed…well I return them anyway. No money is made from this and no infringement of copyright is intended. This will be removed if contacted. This story is not for monetary gain but purely for enjoyment purposes. I claim no ownership with exception to my own original characters and ideas.

Title: Morning Sickness

Author: Egyptian Sunrise

Rating: R (NC-17ish flashbacks)

Pairings: Chlark

Spoilers: Exile, AU season three and end of season two (so Clark and Chlo are 16, in this story since I forgot the birthdays on the show)

Warnings: Graphic sex flashbacks, teen pregnancy

Summary: All she had wanted was to bring him home. What she got was one blissful night with the boy she loved, before he had cast her out with a threat that he would disappear for good if she ever told where he was. She had left, in tears wearing only his shirt, determined to never breath a word of Clark Kent ever again…fate had other plans.

A/N: Chloe never made her deal with Lionel. He won't becoming into play for a while yet.

Chapter One:

Twelve Little Pink Lines

_Pregnant_

Six mocking little pink sticks.

Twelve little pink lines.

She was fucked, literally.

Chloe Sullivan was pregnant.

Chloe Sullivan was _pregnant_ at sweet sixteen.

Oh how the students of Smallville High would celebrate, the downfall of the resident snoop. After years of her sniffing out their every secret, exposing their cheating on tests, affairs, and sometimes-violent meteor powers, they would relish this.

The knuckle draggers on the football team would gloat, jeer, and slander her. Call her easy, a whore; plaster her number on the locker room walls.

The girls would scowl, glare, stone her, and brand her with a scarlet letter 'A'.

Pete and Lana would stand by her at least until the paternity of her child leaked out.

Pete, to his credit would still be there come thick or thin, Lana however would turn on her faster than a rabid Doberman.

Clark Kent, lovable and goofy Clark Kent; had knocked up the intrepid little reporter one muggy night in Metropolis, three months ago. He would not get the ridicule-if he ever came back- he'd get the _'Way to go Kent, never knew you had it in 'ya.' 'Hey Kent, heard you deflowered Sullivan. Come on spill, how was she? A wildcat right. Ah, figured it's always the little ones.'_ While the girls simpered about how such a sweet boy had fallen into her trap. As everyone and their mother's knew, Chloe Sullivan had been in love with Clark Kent for years and Clark had always been in love with Lana Lang, and finally after so many years of pinning Lana loved Clark.

Sitting on the cold, ceramic tile of the bathroom floor, sobbing into her knees, Lana would never forgive her for this. For months she had told her friend to move on-because Clark had- and she was only hurting herself pinning for him. That wasn't a lie. Clark now called himself Kal, and had no qualms about seducing-not that he had to try very hard- his best friend. Only to boot her out on her ass with the sunrise, thank her for the easy fuck- told her never to come back- and with a devilish smirk slammed the door in her tear-streaked face.

After that, she had been determined to put Clark firmly in her past. She succeeded somewhat, her internship at the Planet distracted her during the day, but at night the tears came along with the feel of his hands caressing her body. Then a week ago, she had been in the copy room at the Planet filing copies of the early edition articles into color-coded baskets, hoping to steal a few moments to herself. Mostly, hoping to escape from the crushing smell of cigar, smoke that seemed to swirl around Margie Blue like a funnel cloud. Jimmy Olsen her fellow intern had popped up not even ten minutes later. His camera still looped around his neck, resting atop a blue and green bowling shirt, his bright orange and black bowtie lopsided as per usual. Jimmy had a not so subtle crush on her, in the beginning she had found it flattering.

Before her one night with Clark, she had been considering taking Jimmy up on his offer of dinner and a movie. Lana in particular had urged her to accept, as her friend and housemate had said that she deserved it. Despite the prying, Chloe continued to turn him down at every turn. Her dreams were consumed with someone, but it wasn't James Olsen and having been led on herself, she refused to do that to Jimmy. Jimmy however, would not be deterred. He had clumsily lifted himself atop the copier and this time offered up ice skating, hoping to entice her into a date. She had been opening her mouth to turn him down gently when she caught a potent whiff of his cologne. What happened next guarantied he would never be asking her out again. Her stomach rolled and she violently expelled her Caramel Latte with a double shot of espresso, all over his shirt. When her retching ceased, she had gasped an apology before her stomach gave a powerful jolt, spewing this time across his pants and shoes.

Stunted he had waved away her apology and hightailed it out of the room. Ever since he cringed when she walked into a room, and kept a good ten feet away from her at all times. Chloe's nausea however had not abated. The next time she had erupted, she had caught the scent of greasy hotdogs from the street vender setup outside the main doors of the Daily Planet. Luckily, that time she had been able to make it into the lobby bathroom before she blew like Mount St. Helens. Then it had been when her father had decided on spur of the moment to make his famous enchiladas. After she buried her head in the trashcan and puked neither her father or Lana had much of an appetite any longer, and she had been sent to bed with a cup of _Theraflu_ and an empty trashcan. This had carried on for weeks before one day at the Talon, Pete had made a crack after her latest episode that if he hadn't known better he'd think that she had one in the oven.

Just like that, her world had come to a screeching halt. They hadn't used anything. At the time, she had been so caught up with the feeling of Clark's strong hands traveling over her heated flesh, his mouth nipping and sucking at her nipples through the lace of her bra. Rational thought had been left at the door, and when he slid gently-surprisingly- into her she had been consumed with the pain and pleasure of her first time. 'Kal', as he demanded she call him, had been surprisingly gentle. His kisses had been soft, yet frantic as he swallowed her moans of pleasure. Then he moved, and the Canadian's could have invaded Metropolis and she wouldn't give a fuck. Birth control had been the last thing on either of their minds.

Panicked she had run out on Pete, shouting a veg promise to call him later, jumped in her car and driven to Granville. Normally she would have driven straight for the local drug store, but Mrs. Wallace worked the cash register on Saturday afternoons and the last thing she wanted was that gossip blabbing her business. It would have been all over Smallville before the timer even dinged. Three hours later and here she was, sobbing on the bathroom floor. Now she knew, she was going to be a mother.

She laughed hysterically, her hands gripping the edge of the tub. "Way to go Sullivan, you just became a clichéd statistic."

"Honey?" her father's soft tone made her gasp. Standing in her room gazing worriedly at her through the open door, was her father. Still in his suit, fresh from the factory, he was the picture of fatherly concern. Peaking over his shoulder, was Lana. Her hazel eyes worried as she gazed at her friend. Eyes wide, Chloe tried to discreetly kicked the neatly lined up pregnancy tests out of view with her foot. She failed, his green eyes falling to the floor and onto the little pink sticks. He paled, stumbling backward until his knees hit the bed, and collapsed.

"Oh God." He whispered. Lana's eyes pinched in confusion as she slipped past Gabe and into the bathroom doorway. Chloe looked away guiltily from her friend.

"Chloe, it's okay come on," Lana stepped forward, one of the tests cracking beneath the sole of her sneaker. The brunette frowned and looked down. Eyes widening to the point, Chloe felt they might burst from their sockets.

"Oh boy, you're…oh boy...holy crap…oh shit!" Her friend whispered nervously, before it seemed Lana's mind finally caught up with the shock.

"Right, don't panic." Lana smiled weakly grasping her arm and tugging her up.

Allowing Lana to help her over the threshold, she wobbled toward her father. Coming to a stop a few inches away, frantic tears flowing down her face.

"Daddy, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." She sobbed, falling to her knees, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

"Are you sure?" his voice cracked softly. Behind her, she heard Lana puttering around in the bathroom scooping the tests into the trash bin.

Chloe nodded, swiping the tears from her cheeks.

Gabe reached forward, her hands clasping her trembling shoulders.

"Was it that Olsen boy?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"No, never. We never even kissed." She explained softly, shaking her head.

Chloe watched as her father's eyes turned frantic. "You weren't, oh baby tell me you weren't…"

Lana gasped, the wastebasket slipping from her fingers and clanging loudly on the floor.

"No!" she exclaimed reaching forward and gripping his wrists. "No, God…no…nothing like that."

Some of the tension drained from Gabe's shoulders, and Lana let out a soft sigh of relief.

"Who is the father, Chloe?" she gulped, her eyes widening.

"Please, dad…don't," she begged softly. Her red swollen eyes beseeching him to let it go at least for now.

"Chloe, tell me right now." His tone was unusually stern, but she noted with relief not cruel.

"I-I promised," she whispered brokenly, even now after all he had done, she still could not help but protect Clark. To keep her promise.

"Chloe, tell me the truth."

"Clark."

The wastebasket fell once more from Lana's fingers.

"Clark…" Lana whispered brokenly, "…Clark left months ago…"

Then Lana gasped. Without out turning around Chloe knew, that Lana had pieced it all together.

"You knew, you've known all along." Betrayal was audible in her voice. Gabe ignored the other girl.

"How long ago?"

"Three months. I found him a week after he left, in Metropolis."

Lana's sob dug the knife in deeper. Chloe, knew Lana loved Clark and the other girl hadn't given up hope for his gallant return. A return, Chloe was starting to doubt more and more.

God, she had never wanted this. She never wanted Lana to feel like this, or see the disappointment in her father's eyes.

"Why?" Gabe whispered, releasing her shoulder and pulling her into a hug. His hand moved up and down her back, soothing her as he interrogated her. "Why, did you never tell the Kents?"

"He made me promise, said he would run so far away no one would ever find him."

"Oh God," Lana whispered softly, sliding down the wall and hugging her knees to her chest.

"I couldn't risk that. So I promised him, promised not to tell _anyone_."

"I'm sorry, Tink. But, it's not a promise you can keep anymore." Chloe shook her head wildly. No matter how fucked up her life was, she couldn't betray Clark. She hadn't allowed her petty jealousy to make a deal with the devil, and she wouldn't betray him now. Because not matter what, she still loved him.

"No, I promised him. I won't tell."

She pulled back from her father.

"I can't tell the Kents, not yet. I'll try again."

"No," Lana's voice cracked angrily through the room. Chloe gazed sorrowfully at her friend as she climbed to her feet. Lana met her eyes coldly. "I will, he'll listen to me."

Chloe flinched, and Gabe glared at his houseguest. No matter what, no one ever talked to his little girl like that.

"That's enough, Lana." Gabe reprimanded, Lana looked affronted but kept silent.

"Now, I am calling the Kents…"

"No…no…dad, he's out of control…I'm scared he'll run or hurt himself trying to." Chloe objected getting to her feet, and swiping angrily at her eyes. Reluctantly, she glanced over a Lana who stared back with a skeptical frown. Felling eyes on her Lana gazed toward Chloe, her eyes wide with pain and anger, her hand gripping tightly at the yellow trim of the doorway. She silently plead for forgiveness, but Lana turned away, glaring out the window.

"Chloe," her father's stern voice drew her attention back to him. He stood from the bed, grasping her elbows and looking straight into her eyes. "That is all the more reason to tell them. Clark could hurt himself…there is nothing more you can do."

Chloe nodded weakly. "Okay."

Swiftly Gabe made for the door only to paused and glance back k at his daughter.

"Chloe, never doubt I love you. Never, I'm not happy about this. But don't ever doubt that." Chloe smiled tearfully, and rushed forward throwing her arms around his neck. He held her tightly for a moment, burying his face in her matted hair. Pulling back, he dropped a kiss on her brow, and uncomfortably patted her flat stomach.

"And I love my grandbaby." Chloe laughed softly and despite herself placed her hand low on her stomach.

Gabe shifted nervously, and cleared his throat and turned to leave.

"Mr. Sullivan, the Kents phone was turned off." Lana spoke up finally. "I just gave Mrs. Kent the keys to the Talon apartment."

Gabe sighed sadly. "Chlo, you take it easy. I'll be back." Then he was gone, thundering down the steps and out the door.

…..

The slamming of the front door seemed to act like the first bell of a prizefight championship.

"How could you?" Chloe flinched and Lana's cool, clipped tone.

_Dinging round one_

"I promised," she answered lamely.

Lana scoffed, shoulder away from the wall. "No, you hid him…from _me_. At least now I know why, why you wanted me to move on so fucking badly."

Lana smiled bitterly.

She blinked back tears.

"He's changed, Lana. Whether you want to believe it or not. He won't come back…not even for _you_." Despite herself, she flung the last word back bitterly.

Lana snorted, and remarked snidely. Her beautiful face, the face Clark loved so much, turned pulled into an ugly sneer. "No, but he sure _came_ for you, didn't he?"

Chloe glared, at the low blow.

Rubbing absently at her stomach, almost as if she was trying to shield the tiny life inside from the venomous words being thrown. Lana noticed, and her face crumbled, thick fat tears falling from her eyes.

"You even slept with him. How could you?" she whispered once again, hugging herself tightly.

"How could you?" Chloe tossed back, some of the fire always present in her eyes awakening. She wanted to play dirty, well two could play that way. "You knew Lana. You knew I love Clark, but that didn't stop you now did it? Hell even when you were with Whitney, you pulled Clark around like a puppy on a leash."

Lana stiffened, eyes narrowing into slits. Chloe, however wasn't done yet.

"Or how about that dear John, letter. Regardless of my feelings, you still pursued a relationship with him."

Indignant Lana flipped her sleek black hair off her shoulder. "He actually loves me."

Stung, Chloe reared back at the low blow. Stomping angrily toward her desk, she grabbed a pencil from her Daily Planet mug and scribbled something in the small spiral notebook. Throwing the pencil down and roughly, she ripped the page from the book and thrust it toward Lana.

"Fine, you think you can bring him back…fine give it your best shot. But don't be surprised by what you see, and don't come crying to me when he throws you out on your ass. Best of luck."

Glaring, Lana ripped the scrap paper from between Chloe's fingers.

"Don't worry, I'll bring him home." With that, she stormed out slamming her door behind her. Collapsing into her desk chair, she rested her head on the scrapped wood and cried.

How the hell di life get so fucked up?


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Morning Sickness

Author: Egyptian Sunrise

Rating: R (NC-17ish flashbacks)

Pairings: Chlark, Pete/Lana

Spoilers: Exile, AU season three and end of season two (so Clark and Chlo are 16, in this story since I forgot the birthdays on the show)

Warnings: Graphic sex flashbacks, teen pregnancy

Summary: All she had wanted was to bring him home. What she got was one blissful night with the boy she loved, before he had cast her out with a threat that he would disappear for good if she ever told where he was. She had left, in tears wearing only his shirt, determined to never breath a word of Clark Kent ever again…fate had other plans.

Feedback: I just want to thank everyone for the great feedback. This being my first Smallville fanfic, I'm just glad people are enjoying it. I will also be trying to update this at least once a week, as I am also working on three other stories. Two of them being Chlark, one I'm toying with the idea of a Clark/OC. So be on the lookout for:

Pasts Present- A time Travel Fic

Mishaps in Matchmaking- Chlark, Lana/Whitney (Already completed-just needs posting-lol)

Awakening- the Clark/OC

A/N: Also get ready for a surprise… you may actually like Lana; yeah I know it wasn't easy. But I've added a new pairing….Pete/Lana…if anyone could make her likeable. But that won't crop up for a while yet.

Disclaimer: I claim _**no**_ ownership of any recognizable characters, such as that of Elizabeth Webber, Jason Morgan, or Zander Smith. They are property of _ABC's General Hospital_. Nor do I own _Breyers_ or _Chips Ahoy_.

Chapter Two:

Chocolate Chip cookies and Melted ice cream

Lana had been gone nearly an hour, and despite her anger, she couldn't help but worry. The Clark she knew would never hurt a fly, let alone the delicate pastel princess Lana Lang, but the man she had seen in Metropolis three months ago was haunted. Pete only confirmed that when he had confessed about Kent's baby, and how Clark had flown off the deep end. In true Clark Kent fashion he took full blame on his shoulders, and ran. Chloe cringed, as she remembered that wild look in her best friend's eyes when she had cornered him at _Atlantis_. She had only seen that look before-on _Animal Planet_- in the eyes of a wounded Gazelle on the Serengeti. No matter what he said, no matter what he called himself- Kal, Clark, or Godzilla- he was slowly drowning in his own anguish.

Chloe sighed, pulling her feet up onto the plush gray sofa.

Rubbing her socks across the microfiber, she shivered -hoping to warm her always-freezing feet- and hitching Gammy Sullivan's afghan higher and folding her legs. After her latest crying jag, she had drug herself to the kitchen. After such a traumatic day, and only one Grande Mocha-with a triple pump of chocolate- for breakfast, her nervous stomach was craving sugar. Which wasn't so odd, ever since Chloe was a little girl, she was a nervous eater. After her mother had skipped out, she had made her way through an entire carton of Mocha Madness ice cream and an entire bag of _Oreos_. When the General had been relocated to Germany, taking her cousins Lois and Lucy halfway across the world, she had eaten her weight in tortilla chips and salsa. The worst however came with their exile to Hicksville, depressed and livid Chloe had powered through two boxes of dried spaghetti and a jar of marina sauce. A nervous disorder she paid for dearly, as every pound seemed to fall right to her ass. Thankfully her nerves very seldom reached, that level.

Tonight however, was-not surprisingly- one of those nights. Not that it mattered anymore considering by winter she would be as big as a house and as cranky as Roseanne Bar on a diet. Depressed, Chloe dug her _Chips Ahoy_ into the pint _Breyers Triple Chocolate Ice Cream_, nestled between her crossed ankles_. _Balancing the- melting- frozen treat on the end of her cookie, she raised it to her mouth and moaned in pleasure as her teeth sunk into the chocolaty goodness. Slurping the dripping ice cream off her fingers, and catching beads of melting chocolate on her tongue, she felt her muscles relax.

The crackling boom of a gunshot, had her surprised green eyes snapping back to the television and groaned. On her screen, Elizabeth Webber stood dumbfounded as she glanced down at the blood trickling from the bullet wound in her arm. Chloe sighed, as Jason Morgan- a man who had pinned over Elizabeth for years- caught her in his muscular arms as her knees gave way from pain and shock. Then Zander Smith, a competitor for Elizabeth's affections and her shooter, reached for her, only to skitter away under the deadly laser like glare of Jason's baby blues.

Chloe's lower lip quivered as she scooped another glob of ice cream into her mouth. She knew she had truly hit rock bottom when she watched old taped re-runs of _General Hospital,_ and could commiserate with the characters and draw connections to her own life. She was a truly pathetic mess, her t-shirt was splattered with drips of chocolate, and her eyes were red, swollen, and sore. She was in love with her best friend who- was having a type of nervous breakdown and fathered her unborn child- and he was in love with her roommate and had been since the sand box. Said roommate was now, miracle of miracles, in love with him as well and as always she followed at a distance forever in the shadows of their epic love. The forgotten and the unloved, and the perfect picture of teen angst.

Fuck, she was a soap writer's wet dream.

Chloe blinked hard, as she felt the familiar burn behind her eyes. As much as she wanted to let the tears fall, and wallow in self-pity and unrequited love she had shed enough tears because of Clark Kent for one day. Tomorrow she would crumble, but tonight, she had bigger fish to fry. Her father was searching out the Kents and she would soon be recounting her deception to two of the kindest people she knew. Grabbing the remote from the arm of the couch, she pressed the fast forward sending her show skipping to the next episodes opening credits. The familiar sound of the saxophone, of the instrumental theme song always soothed her, and she sighed letting herself be taken away by memories. Ever since the first time, when she was six and sick with the flu, her mother had cuddled her on the couch, bemoaning the lives of Port Charles citizens.

Chloe supposed it was weird to associate the saxophone and _General Hospital,_ with her long since absentee mother, but the fact was both of those things were her go to cure all. Maybe it was because that was the last memory she had of her mother before she packed her bags, and left them. Funny enough, it was that memory that sparked her search. Trying to achieve… well she wasn't sure what she was trying to achieve, but she'd hoped finally knowing would make a profound impact. So far she had come up blank, so for now all she had was the soft melody of the saxophone and _General Hospital_ to fill the void.

Over the soft murmuring of the TV, she heard tires screech. For a brief moment she thought it was her father, and she tensed, but her father left barely an twenty-five minutes earlier. The drive to Hickory Lane took at least twenty in both directions. Unless her father had broken the land speed record it wasn't her firing squad.

She sighed irritably, reaching for the remote to turn up the TV. It probably was Dennis Thornton on his motorized dirt bike, speeding up and down the development again. Immersed in the star crossed love of Jason and Elizabeth; Chloe absently snatched another cookie, from the pack resting open beside her and scooped a large glop of ice cream out of the carton. Opening her mouth she raised her snack to her mouth, just as her front door slammed open, ricocheting off the wall. Standing in her doorway, eyes frantic, his face flushed was Jonathon Kent. She gaped, her cookie halfway to her mouth, chocolate dipping down her throat and chest, as she blinked stupidly back at him.

"Jonathon, that was rude. You probably scared Chloe half to death." Martha scolded half-heartedly as she too skidded into the room, her warm eyes landing on the stupefied blonde. For a brief moment, Chloe thought she saw an amused smile twitch at the older woman's lips, before it was gone and she regarded her with a pleading stare.

_Great, just fucking great. As if, she didn't feel bad enough._ The blonde mused silently.

"Crap, cold!" Chloe yelped, when the glop of ice cream slopped off the cookie and onto her chest. Mr. Kent snorted and grabbed a box of tissues of the end table and tossed them on the cushion beside her.

Embarrassed, she hastily cleans herself off as best she could. Just as she was tossing the last soiled tissue into the nearly empty carton, her father skidded into the house huffing and puffing. Gabe grunted, and bent over resting his hands on his knees. Still dressed in his suit and dress shoes, his face beet red and dripping sweat he made quite the funny picture.

Feeling eyes on him, Gabe straightened and eyed the carton of ice cream and the nearly empty bag of cookies, and then to the forgotten daytime drama playing on the screen.

"Aww, Tink." He whispered mournfully, but it seemed Jonathon had reached the end of his fraying patience. Standing illuminated by the floor lamp, the florescent glow highlighting his strong jaw and cheekbones, and gave a desperate glow to his hopeful blue eyes. Damn, Jonathon Kent and his movie star good looks. Martha shuffled forward stepping over Gammy Sullivan's blanket- that had fallen to the floor when the Kents had stormed the gates- and grabbed a tissue and motherly affection wiped some ice cream from her cheek. She was going to cry, she knew it. One more pleading word or gesture of motherly love would break the damn.

"Chloe?" he asked beseechingly, as his wife tended to her.

Aww fuck.

And the damn broke.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered brokenly, a fresh wave of tears falling from her lashes.

"Shh...sweetie...shh, it's okay." Martha hummed smoothing her matted hair.

Martha's soft words only made her sob harder. "I-I wanted to tell you, but he made...he made me...promise."

Mr. Kent frowned turning toward Gabe, seeking answers. Gabe sighed and shrugged, even after years of being a single parent he still could not understand cry talk. Whenever his daughter went on a soap opera binge, he found it was better for both of them to make himself scarce.

"I'll uh make some tea, I have a feeling this is going to be a long night." With a sigh, Gabe trudged off toward the kitchen, patting Jonathon comfortingly on the shoulder as he passed. Idly he wondered as he pushed open the frosted glass door, if he still had the bottle of top shelf single malt Lex Luthor had given him as congratulations for his promotion. Gabe new by the end of this gabfest. He was going to need a stiff belt to sooth his nerves; and pretend- at least until the Kents left- that he wasn't plotting on the best way to make a farmboy cry.

….

_Three hours later_

Gabe Sullivan mournfully gazed toward the scotch, sitting atop his great-grandmother's two hundred year old china cabinet. Gabe was not a drinker; he would have a few beers at poker night or at the bowling alley but that was about it. Having had an alcoholic uncle, who drank away his insecurities and pain, Gabe had refused to drink when his emotions were in an up roar. This was why he had practically given up alcohol for the two years after his divorce. At the moment, however, he was seriously reconsidering that rule.

Seated at his kitchen island, was Jonathon alternately clenching his jaw and casting a heartbroken expression toward Chloe. Martha was nestled in the winding bench in the breakfast nock holding onto his daughter for dear life. Both of them sobbing and alternately comforting and apologizing to each other. Casting one more wanting glance at the amber bottle, he shuffled wearily to the refrigerator pulling out a soda. It wasn't hard liquor but it would have to do.

Upset as he was, he still couldn't help but offer Martha and his daughter a small comforting smile, as he pulled himself up onto a stool next to Jonathan. That smile however seemed to have the opposite effect, as both of the girls faces crumbled and they clung tighter to one another.

Gabe gave a wince, and silently cast a sorrowful glance in his friend's direction. When he had first thought of moving to Smallville to run the plant, he had taken a day to himself and toured the small hamlet. The first person he had met had been the Kents, who had taken it upon themselves to show him the town they loved. When he had finally made the move, Martha had been the first person to welcome them to town with a homemade pie. Having been a city boy all his life, he had only thought people did such things in old fifties sitcoms and movies- and per that tradition he- quite stupidly- had offered her a cup of sugar.

While he liked the Kent's he had never thought, that they would ever be here. Sitting in his kitchen revealing their wayward son's whereabouts and announcing that their families were now forever linked. While Martha's reaction of throwing herself into Chloe's arms and sobbing and reassuring the young girl had startled him, its Jonathan that he understood.

"I'm going to kill him." he'd muttered angrily his jaw ticking and twitching under the strain. When Chloe had wailed, Martha had fixed her husband with a stony look that had nearly made Gabe wet himself, he wasn't proud to admit it but it was fact. Ever since then the only sound echoing through the Sullivan house was sobs. Normally Gabe would have broken the tension, with a few of his knock-knock jokes, but he had an inkling that the one about three possums and a moose would not be appreciated right now.

He was saved, by the door slam, as it were.

Knowing it was Lana, Gabe wearily lifted himself from his stool and slipped unnoticed from the kitchen. He paused in the dining room as he spotted his surrogate daughter sobbing into the couch cushions. While he had always known Lana and Chloe were in an unfair and uneven competition for Clark Kent's affections, he had said nothing when he would pass his daughter's room on the way to bed, and hear Lana gushing or bemoaning Clark Kent.

Gabe scowled at the name.

Ever since the train wreck, that was the Spring Formal he had not been a fan of the youngest Kent. A fact that Clark seemed very attuned to the next time he had stopped by the house, and he was not greeted with his customary joke and clap on the back. Now he shared a house with two hormonal teenage girls both in love with the bumbling boy, and his castle had all too soon, descend into madness. Now he was stuck with yet another fountain of estrogen, and because Chloe was well cared for that now left him free to console Lana. He cared for Lana like a daughter; Gabe was drowning in tears, and it was fact he was less than useless in getting anyone to stop crying.

Cursing himself, he crossed across the dusty wood floor- and absently reminded himself to buy a mop- and perched on the arm of the couch and awkwardly patted Lana's dark hair.

The teen tensed for a moment, and gazed up at him through dark hair and wet lashes. "I think, I made it worse…," she whispered brokenly. "…he's so different…so un-Clark."

Lana pushed herself up, tossing her hair from her face and gazing at him with wet eyes. Scooting over she allowed him to sit on the now sodden cushion he winced slightly as he felt his backside grow damp.

"I didn't tell him…he was just so off…for the first time I was scared of him. Truly afraid." Gabe tensed, and laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. "He tossed them sleeping together in my face, when I refused to stay. Called her an easy fuck… and that he made due with second string, since the starter was missing. I've never heard him be so cruel."

Gabe's jaw clenched, his teeth grinding in anger. His hand accidently tightened on Lana's shoulder and she gave a small wince.

"I'm sorry." He released her shoulder and gave her a side armed hug. Lana smiled self-deprecatingly, tucking her ebony hair over her shoulder.

"No, I should be apologizing. I never should have said the things I did to Chloe. I was hurt, and selfish, and I thought she was trying to hide Clark from me…but I get it now…she was trying to protect us both." She whispered wiping at her eyes with her fingertips. "Is she okay?"

Gabe cringed slightly. "Uhm…to tell you the truth, I'm not quite sure. The Kents are in the kitchen and Martha and Chloe have been crying together for at least forty-minuets."

She offered him a small smile, patted him sympathetically on the arm. "Wish me luck, I'm going in."

Gabe snorted and allowed her to help him up off the sofa. Following close behind, he followed her into the kitchen and jumped in surprise when Lana too broke down in tears and ran to Martha and Chloe, apologizing between gasps of air, as she explained Clark's transformation and the truth of his Metropolis binge.

Gabe groaned.

Gabe Sullivan was in hell.

And if Clark Kent survived the group beating, he really hoped he would be blessed with a little girl.

Let him live with that worry.

Now that was sweet revenge.


	3. Chapter 3

Morning Sickness

Chapter Three:

Of Plans and Green K

"Barns! That's a pitch fork not a guitar!" Martha and Chloe both glanced up in surprise from their place in the vegetable garden, and pressed their lips together in a vain attempt to swallow their laughter. Lana Lang, wielding a bubble gum pink clipboard and an equally pink hammer marched away from the hole in the barn she'd been helping Mr. Kent repair and toward the hulking right tackle. Barns blanched, slowly backing away from the pixie like creature stalking toward him waving a bludgeon. His fellow Neanderthals hooted in laughter, which was quickly killed by an evil look from the hammer wielding former cheerleader. Give Lana a clipboard and she was a small dictator, and Chloe could not help but be proud. Mr. Kent was laughing, loudly and leaning against the barn door for support, his assistant now tearing a three hundred pound defensive lineman verbally to shreds.

Martha and Chloe glanced back at each other blue locking on green, and all pretenses dissolved in a gale of happy laughter. It was the first time in the months since Clark had left them all high and dry and subsequently dropped off the grid that Martha Kent had truly laughed. In her biweekly visits to the farm, Chloe had tried to ease the burden on the family and by dragging Pete and her father out on weekends to help Mr. Kent with repairs or feeding the cattle on the back forty; she liked to think it helped. Her father was next to useless when it came to farm equipment; he had- in his youth- restored classic cars with Grampy Sullivan and mostly offered assistance with the truck repairs and mucking out stalls, and delivering produce.

While she primarily dealt with the small things that a city girl could handle like garden work, brushing the monsters Mr. Kent called horses, milking Bitey and Bessie the cows, she hopped she was making a small difference. Not only because she loved Martha and Jonathan as much as her own father, but in a small way trying to make up for her deception, and also she knew from rumors around town that without Clark, the Kents were under the proverbial financial gun. She had hoped that the three extra hands two to three times a week would make a difference, and if it had it hadn't been much. It was just another Kent family mystery as to how with Clark the farm, while still on shaky ground was solvent none the less. Having caught wind that the Kent's situation had only gotten worse, Lana had come to her seeking ideas to lend Smallville's favorite family a helping hand.

It was that, that had warranted breaking out the clipboard and putting Lana and Pete on the Smallville High phone tree, and her father on the line to his friends at the plant. By morning Lana had brow beat the cheerleaders and a good number of jock-straps into compliance, Pete had secured the debate club, drama club and the girls basketball and volleyball teams, while she had brought in the 4H club, library council, and swim team, her father had also come through largely enlisting most of the swing shift of the crap factory. At sunrise half of Smallville's teenage population- some with their parent's in toe- a third of the Smallville Plant 3's employees gathered on the lawn of the Sullivan home. Lana, ever the planner, had setup up a sign in and assignment booth and a small muffin, coffee, and doughnut station, and had diligently handed out assignments, breakfast, and carpool slots. With everyone squared away, fifteen cars and pickup trucks had left the LuthorCorp housing development bound for the farm. At 5:45 in the morning, still drowsy and somewhat cranky, they arrived at the three generation year old farm. Mr. and Mrs. Kent had just been heading out with mugs full of coffee toward the barn, and were startled to find a sea of cars in their driveway. It had taken a little finagling on Gabe's part but the Kent's had gladly accepted the help, and Chloe couldn't help but be proud of the truck fulls of milk and produce that was now ready storage, baking, and delivery.

The majority of the morning Martha and the pom-pom squad had spent in the kitchen rolling out pie crusts, and readying dozens of pies for the Talon and the Smallville bakery. Mrs. Mills, the owner of the local super market, had also forged a contract with Martha to sell some of her boxed masterful desserts. Having been banished from the kitchen, Chloe spent her morning with Pete delivering some past due produce stock to neighboring business and farms, before she had been sequestered to the garden. Sometime later Mrs. Kent had joined her giving her a visual once over and silently asking with her eyes how she was. The small, but genuine smile Chloe had shot her seemed to calm her motherly nerves and she handed her a glass of lemonade and demanded she drink it with her on the porch. Mrs. Kent had refilled her glass four times, guilted her into two slices of apple pie and a ham and cheese sandwich before she was satisfied she was hydrated, feed, and rested enough to brave the August afternoon heat. Stuffed to the gills, and Martha trailing closely behind asking her if she was sure she didn't want to use Clark' room for a nap, she was once again knee deep in carrots, cabbage, and cucumbers.

Rearing back on her knees, Chloe used her wrist to wipe away the sweat trickling down her brow and instead smeared soil across her forehead.

"Chloe, are you okay sweetie?" Martha's warm honey voice broke through the sweltering noon heat. Swallowing a groan at the mother hen hovering, it was definitely a new development in the world of Chloe Sullivan, being that her mother had been gone for nearly eight years, Chloe had forgotten what is was like to have someone worry over everything.

"I'm fine, although I think I pulled every muscle in my back and come morning I'm going to be one big Charlie horse."

Across from her crawling around the zucchini was the red faced, sweaty her dark brown ponytail plastered to her neck was, Michelle Nicholson captain of the Glee Club snorted. "I hear that, I'm a city girl. The last time I saw farm land was when my mother got us lost in New Jersey."

Martha smiled softly, pushing some flyaway strands of her red hair behind her ear. "Something I learned the hard way, dear. Farm labor is the best workout you will ever find, even in the Health Spas."

Chloe's shoulder's relaxed, as Mama Kent's attention was diverted. However as soon as Chloe had started digging around trying to tug out a stubborn carrot, she felt blue eyes gazing at her back. With a groan, Chloe gazed back through her sweat scraggly bangs and mouthed 'I'm fine'.

That seemed to appease the older woman, heaving a sigh she dug deeper in the soil. Knocking a few stones out of the way and with a sharp tug unearthed a carrot. That however was not the only thing unearthed, as she leaned forward to throw the carrot into the bushel basket, a wave of painful nausea enveloped her.

"Ahh!' she cried out, the root falling from her lip fingers. One arm curled over her stomach and while with wide eyes she watched as her veins bulged, and she could almost feel the burning flow of her blood through her veins. Martha nearly dove over a row of cucumbers crushing a few under her knees, she grasped Chloe' shoulders.

"Chloe?" she asked quietly in alarm.

"What the hell?" Michelle piped up hurrying forward on her knees; she picked up the eerily glowing green stone, and pitched the rock toward the barn. Crawling closer the singer grasped Chloe's shoulder and pulled her slightly up off the dirt.

"Oh my," Martha whispered softly, as panting Chloe sat up the pain and nausea gone. "You okay sweetie? The baby?"

"Whoa," The glee captain whispered, and Chloe moaned pathetically her secret slipping out to the new transfer student.

"I think I'm okay, what was that? I felt like I had acid in my veins. What's wrong with me?" she asked Martha softly.

"Ugh," Martha drawled uncomfortably, glancing at the other teen currently hefting Chloe to her feet.

"I know it sounds crazy, but that rock…it was…sorta glowing."

"I'm sure it was just a trick of light." Martha shrugged, wrapping her arm around Chloe's shoulders and helping her toward the door.

Michelle however followed behind. "I don't know about that. As soon as I moved it, the sucker stopped glowing. I know I'm new here, but even I know strange things happen her more frequently than Angelina collects kids."

Despite the situation, Chloe snorted. "Welcome to Smallville."

Suddenly she stopped, Martha fumbled slightly before catching her balance and the glee captain trailing them nearly ran into them. Turning Chloe regarded the brunette, with beseeching eyes.

"Please," she whispered. "Please don't tell anyone."

Michelle snorted, pushing her sodden ponytail off her shoulder. "These gossip mongers? Don't worry I won't be the catalyst to anyone lynch mob, but with that episode you should probably see a doctor."

While normally Martha would have loved to chat with Smallville's newest resident. Now wasn't the time.

"Yes, dear I agree I'll take her myself. If you wouldn't mind sweetie could you finish up in the garden."

"Sure, just go straight Smallville Gynecology" the other girl agreed easily. "And ask for Dr. Nicholson, my mom's the new…" Michelle glanced around slightly. "OBGYN."

Martha smiled, genuinely. "We will thank you dear." With that the new teen spun on her heel and started back toward the garden.

Chloe groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. "That went smoothly. And since when did meteor rocks glow or worse make me sick?"

Martha swallowed thickly guiding her young charge up the porch stairs. "Oh I doubt it was that, but we'll go to the doctors and get everything checked."

Chloe's eyes watered and she clutched desperately at her stomach. "You don't think anything's wrong, do you?"

The older woman shook her head frantically. "No, no dear. Just as a precaution. Maybe you're dehydrated or hypotensive."

Chloe squinted up at her, disbelief firmly etched on her frightened features, but thankfully receded into her own motherly worry.

"Wait here; I'll grab the truck keys." Martha made to walk into the house, when Chloe cleared her throat and nodded to the pickup, where both her father and Jonathan were tinkering under the hood, while Lana crawled about checking tire pressure.

"Right," Martha sighed, raking a hand through her gritty hair.

"Here, we'll take mine." Chloe tearfully handed her the keys.

"Great, I'll just let Jonathan and your father…."

"No! Please, I don't want to wait. I need to know if my baby is okay. Please." The tiny girl whispered big green luminescent eyes filled with tears. Martha's heart gave a jerk. She knew that fear all too well, having suffered the worst of that fear only a few months before hand. Clasping the keys to the VW bug in her fist she nodded curtly.

"Right, they probably won't even notice. Come on."

…

The moment Martha and Chloe walked into the Smallville Gynecology Center, a young black haired woman greeted them in the lobby with a kind smile.

"You must be Chloe and Martha, I'm Dr. Abby Nicholson. You can follow me." The woman smiled, readjusting her small square glasses and ushering them through the door.

"My daughter gave me a heads up call," Both Martha and Chloe tensed, each for very different reasons. Abby frowned slightly, but continued. "She told me of the sensitive nature, and I've sent the office staff out for a late lunch. Nothing to fear about being discovered by old Gina Crew."

Martha smiled slightly, some tension draining from her shoulders. Chloe however shifted about nervously. Having been in practice long enough to know a scared pregnant teenager when she saw one she lead them directly into the ultrasound room.

"Heard you had a little scare, just pop behind the curtain and change into this, and we'll have a look-see."

Chloe gulped, accepted the gown and ducking behind the white screen. Her fingers fumbled in her haste to undue the button fly of her jeans, as the doctor asked her questions. She could hear the quite peck of fingernails against the computer keys, as the doctor made a chart for her. Toeing off her boots she kicked her jeans away, and wrestled with her shirt. Finally freeing herself she took a deep breath and slipped the paper gown up her arms.

"Okay, let's get your vitals. Then we'll start you on an IV, draw some blood and hopefully we'll be able to get a look at your baby."

Chloe froze, on the step ladder. "Soon? Can't we do it now?"

Abby smiled softly, gently pressing her to sit back on the elevated seat. "Unfortunately, you'll need a full bladder to get a good look at the fetus."

"I do have to pee; Mrs. Kent has been pumping lemonade into me all day." Martha blushed slightly, and smiled.

Securing the blood pressure cuff on Chloe's arm, the doctor grasped her shoulders. "Breath, getting your blood pressure up won't help either of you. Let me get your vitals, draw some blood, and put you on the IV…just for precaution, and we'll see if we can get a clear picture… then we'll do the internal okay?"

Chloe swallowed thickly and nodded.

…..

Sitting in the car on the drive back to the Kent farm, Chloe couldn't stop staring at the small grainy ultrasound print out. Her baby was just under two inches long, a little larger than the 1 ½ inches for other pregnancies at ten weeks. The doctor however had been unconcerned assuring her 1 ½ inches was merely an average not an exact measure for all pregnancies. The best part by far had been the swooshing sound of the heartbeat, it had driven both she and Martha to tears.

Satisfied that her bout of meteor poisoning had done no harm to her baby, Chloe had left the office with the assurance that Dr. Nicholson would put a rush on her lab work. So she had left the office with a bottle of parental vitamins, a stack of brochures, and the doctor's privet cell phone number in case of questions or concerns. Abby had been amazing revealing that she had given birth to Michelle at just nineteen and still managed to claw through med school, and become a top rated doctor. Chloe was still confused as to why one of Philly's top Doc's would move to Smallville of all places, but she wasn't about to complain. Maybe, just maybe her dreams of the Planet and Tiffany lamps were not quite so far out of her reach as they were this morning. She smiled softly to herself, and relaxed back into the leather seat. Her respite was short lived however. The ringing of her cell phone broke her out of her fairytale haze.

Scowling, she shifted lifting her bottom off the seat to dig the phone out of her pocket.

UKNOWN NUMBER

She frowned, and flipped her phone open. "Hello?"

No one answered her.

"Hello?" she asked again. In the background she could hear the blare of taxis horns and mindless chatter of passing pedestrians, and the low deep breaths of the caller.

"Look buddy, I am so not in the mood for an obscene phone call." Chloe rolled her eyes, in answer to Martha's questioning look.

"Chlo?" the voice on the other end was heartbreaking.

"Clark!" she gasped out.

Martha gasped the car swerving slightly before she was able to pull off to the side of the road. She gazed at her silently her ice blue eyes, wet with tears.

"Chloe? I- I'm sorry…I…I miss you." She squeezed her eyes together, a single tear escaping her lashes. He sounded so lost over the line.

"I miss you too. Everyone misses you, Clark. Please, we need you to come home. I need you to come home!"

"I can't, I can't ever come home…please tell me I didn't hurt you?" his voice was soft and fragile, as if he was on the verge of tears.

"Hurt me?" she questioned dumbly.

"When we…well…you know." Chloe rolled her eyes, she could practically see that beet red blush now. She missed that blush.

"No, of course not."

"Then why were you at the….well…the lady doctor?" Chloe gulped, her eyes flickering to Martha who was convulsively gripping the steering wheel and biting into her lower lip brutally, to keep silent. Normally Chloe would have teased him, about being unable to say Gynecologist but now all she wanted was for him to come home.

"Wait...how did you know…Clark where are you?"

"Same place I've been for three months." He said somewhat bitterly.

"I know you don't want to be in Metropolis. I know you don't- not yet at least. Your family needs you home Clark," she gulped swallowing her pride. "Lana needs you, I need you now more than ever, and so does Pete."

She heard the change in his voice, it seemed Kal was back and Clark was once again just a beautiful memory. "Well I don't need anyone, least of all a traitor. You told Lana where to find me! You swore you would keep that big trap of yours shut!"

"I'm sorry," she whispered guiltily, tears burning the back of her eyes.

His laughter was dark, and a chill ran down her spine.

"Please, I do need you Clark. I-I…I'm pregnant."

The voice on the other end fell silent. The only sounds were the honks of cars and police sirens.

"Clark, stop!" Martha cried out, struggling to unbuckle her seatbelt. Chloe squealed when the passenger side of her door was ripped off, and she was gazing into the glimmer blue-green eyes of Clark Kent. He crouched beside her as she gaped, his eyes squinting at her abdomen. Then he was gazing up at her, his eyes alight with something that resembled wonderment. His large hands gipped the grey seatbelt and tore it in two with an easy flick of his fingers.

"Whoa." She whispered dumbly. She had always known there were many thing different about Clark Kent. His spectacular saves the meteor necklace of Lana's that turned him into a clumsy fool, the quick saves, and the adrenalin fueled strength, the…meteor rocks. She gazed down on his hand, and there glimmering brightly was the school ring, adorned with red meteor rock. The stone flared as the ring grazed her arm and her body tingled pleasantly. Kal was who came out to play when he wore that damned ring. She had to get that ring from him.

"Clark, oh Clark." Martha reaches forward, her palm skirting his hand. His body went ridged at the touch. With ease, Chloe was lifted from the vehicle. Cradled in his arms, she felt safe and loved.

"Clark, please it's okay. Let's go home."

A sly grin twisted his handsome face. Her stomach lurched slightly; she missed that shy smile that was purely Clark Kent, Kansas farm boy. That devil may care attitude that radiated off him was every girl's bad boy fantasy come to life. Luckily for herself, Clark, their baby, and the Kent's Chloe much preferred the Kanas farm boy. The bad boy was always welcome in her fantasies, but the reality of Clark was better than any hot motorcycle sex fantasy. All she had to do was get that damned ring. She had her suspicions that while the green rock hurt him- well both of them now- the red rock was the exact opposite a drug that made him feel on top of the world and worry free.

"Eeeeek!" she squealed, as the world blurred around her. Gently she felt his hand come up and push her face into his neck.

"Clark, no! Please! Please!" Martha called but Clark and Chloe were gone. All that was left was a cloud of dust, and her tears.


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Morning Sickness  
>Author: Egyptian Sunrise<br>Rating: R (NC-17ish flashbacks)  
>Pairings: Chlark<br>Spoilers: Exile, AU season three and end of season two (so Clark and Chlo are 16, in this story since I forgot the birthdays on the show)  
>Warnings: Graphic sex flashbacks, teen pregnancy<br>Summary: All she had wanted was to bring him home. What she got was one blissful night with the boy she loved, before he had cast her out with a threat that he would disappear for good if she ever told where he was. She had left, in tears wearing only his shirt, determined to never breath a word of Clark Kent ever again…fate had other plans.

Chapter Four:

One moment she had been in her car, parked on the side of the road- the next she was sprawled on a pillow soft mattress. Her head pillowed on a perfectly fluffed pillow, and tucked snugly into the large sprawling bed that their child had been conceived in the thick black quilt pulled up to her chin. Chloe barely had time to process her sudden change in venue, before there was a blur of black, a swift whip of wind and Clark was lying next to her on the bed raised up on his elbow gazing down at her.

Her mouth gaped open, working soundlessly as her eyes jumped around the high end loft apartment. "Whoa," she muttered, her surprised and impressed eyes locking on his challenging blue ones. To anyone else, that gleam in his eyes could have been taken as a smug challenge; but to Chloe she could see the vulnerability lurking just beneath his false bravado.

"Scared, yet?" he taunted, leaning toward her the tip of his nose grazing hers, his breath feathering across her face in a whisper of a caress. Chloe didn't pull away or flinch and she could see a quick jolt of surprise flash through his baby blues.

Insulted she arched a light brown eyebrow. "Why would I? The Clark I know is still here, he hasn't changed. You haven't changed Clark."

Kal glowered at her, leaning even closer, his lips pulling back in a menacing snarl. "I am not Clark Fuck*ng Kent. I am not your best friend Sullivan. You have no idea what I'm capable of."

That tone, that deep growling timbre, she had no doubt struck fear into many a gang banger she however didn't bat and eyelash.

"Bullsh*t," She snapped at him, her eyes narrowing into dangerous slits.

Hid irises flashed amber, Chloe was surprised it seemed that he had scored even more super powers in the meteor freak lottery, but stubbornly tipped her chin up-accepting his challenge. It just figured that he would have more than a few powers after all, leave it to Clark to overachieve. Suddenly everything became clear, the quick exits, the lame excuses, and the 'adrenalin' induced saves. Clark Kent was Smallville's unknown hero, and a lost one at that.

"No matter what you think, you are still the same person. Whether you call yourself Kal, Clark, or Snuffleupagus, you are the same person. You can lie to yourself as much as you want. But I know the truth."

With a barely controlled snarl of rage, Cla- Kal was gone in a blur of black, the door slamming behind him. She flinched slightly, when a particularly ugly picture fell from the wall and shattered on the hardwood planks, sending a shower of sparkling diamond shrapnel spraying across the floor.

"I always knew there was something amazing about you, Clark Kent." Her voice was soft, her eyes lingering on the closed door. Despite his blasé attitude, Chloe knew he had been afraid: afraid of the coming rejection, silently bracing himself for the moment when she would look at him differently or recoil in disgust. When she had done none of those things, he had been rattled. Then he became an ass.

That panty dropping smirk had made it return, and Chloe fought back a groan of annoyance. If she didn't have an inkling she would only hurt herself, she would have punched him in that damn perfect nose of his. Ever since she had met him, Clark's smile had been her greatest weakness. No matter how many times she vowed that, those puppy-dog eyes and shy smile would not sway her again…she always failed. That smirk of his however was pure sexual intent, and that was not the Clark Kent she knew, the shy boy who had shown the new city girl around his farm. This was the injured part of him, Kal the person he had always wished down he could be deep down inside.

Throwing the covers off her legs, she carefully tucked the sonogram picture into the back pocket of her jeans. Fisting her mussed and sweaty blond locks between her fingers, she squeezed her eyes shut; this was the last thing she needed. She had enough problems, with soon becoming a teenage mother, her new allergy-probably due in-part to her pregnancy with Clark's child- to meteor rocks, and the Kent's teetering on the precipice of financial ruin, and not to mention in just a matter of nine or so weeks she would be showing and be branded the Slut of Smallville. The last thing Chloe needed was a Clark Kent identity crisis.

She took a deep calming breath, Dr. Nicholson had warned her about keeping her stress level in the green, she had obviously never, met Clark. But she did as recommended- deep breath in through the nose out through the mouth.

_Baby needs calm- huh baby- yeah still not quite used to that._ Chloe muses, her eyes flicking up to the celling and gaped.

There scorched into the white pain of the ceiling above the bed, was the thick black charred lines, housed in the perfect lines of a diamond was large swirling lines of a figure eight. It was oddly reminiscent of the hieroglyphs in the Kawatche caves, and it struck a chord deep inside her. Even though Chloe was sure she had never seen that particular symbol before, she could not fight that nagging jolt of recognition. At that particular moment she didn't even want to speculate how that had been burned into the sheetrock, and settled for searching for a phone. If she knew Mrs. Kent, she knew the older woman was probably in the throes of a major panic attack.

After her speedy trip on the Kent Express, her cell phone was missing- and she doubted that was a coincidence. Clark or Kal obviously didn't want her contacting the outside world.

"Well to fuck*ng bad for him." Chloe muttered to herself, as she began her search for a phone only to turn up empty. Broken glass crunched under the soles of her shoes as she paced the apartment. She didn't want to leave encase Clark came back a presented her with an opportunity to steal that god-damned ring. But Martha's stress meter was probably at defcon one, and probably on her way to Metropolis.

Biting her lip, she made her decision and wrenched the front door open. Part of her expected to see Clark's hulking form blocking the doorway, preventing her escape. She was both disappointed and relieved when that wasn't the case. Chloe was out the door and running down the corridor to the elevator, nearly upending an elderly lady with a cane carrying her groceries, as she toddled off the elevator. Calling an apology over her shoulder she yanked the cage closed and hurriedly punched the button for the ground floor. Leaning her back against the elevator, she tapped her foot nervously. She'd make a quick call to Martha, give her the address and get her ass back to apartment. Hopefully before Clark returned from his childish snit.

Finally the elevator rumbled to a halt, and Chloe slipped into the lobby of steel and glass. The teen behind the desk, glance up at her approach and offered her a friendly smile.

"Hello, may I be of help?" the woman asked kindly, pushing a lock of bubblegum pink hair behind her studded ear.

"Ugh yes," Chloe paused, her eyes flicking down to the name clip on the uniform white blazer. "Trudy, the phone in room 24C, is missing." Chloe smiled serenely and giggled. "My boyfriend probably knocked it behind the bed last night."

She feigned embarrassment and shrugged her shoulders daintily. "Would it be okay if I use the desk line?"

Trudy's grin resembled that of the cat that swallowed the canary. "24C, huh? Tall, dark, and leather right? Guh… Good for you girl, that man the Disneyland of sex, and I sooooo would not mind taking a ride."

Trudy' eyes glazed over, as she slipped into her own fantasy. Rolling her eyes-even though she couldn't blame Trudy- it didn't mean it didn't annoy her of another woman fantasizing about her, fake, boyfriend. But there was such a thing as tact. Chloe reached across the desk and snatched the phone. Picking up the receiver, she arched a brow at the receptionist and snapped curtly. "How do I get an outside line?"

"Huh?" Trudy glanced up startled and flushed, when Chloe shook the receiver at her. "Oh, dial nine, then the number."

Whether it was to give her privacy, or to escape her embarrassment of being caught in a fantasy about another girl's boyfriend, she slipped into the backroom. With lightning speed she punched in the number of the Kent farm, hoping Martha was there and not bound for the city. Bouncing nervously on her toes, Chloe listened to the ringing drone in her ear.

"Come on, Mrs. Kent." She muttered, twirling the cord around her fingers.

"_Kent Farm,"_

Pete.

Chloe stifled an irritated groan. Normally she loved talking with Pete, but right now she really didn't have time for him.

"Pete, is Mrs. Kent there?" Chloe asked questioned, more curtly than she had meant too.

"_Chlo? No, Mrs. K's not here, she's on her way to Metropolis. Where are you?" Pete's voice was anxious._

"_Where did Clark take you? Is the bab—that fine booty of yours okay"_

_He finished lamely._

Her blood ran cold.

Oh God.

Pete knew.

"It does- wait how do _you_ know Clark took me or the baby for that matter?" she asked, her eyes narrowing her journalistic spidey sense was tingling.

"_Ugh…well…it doesn't matter. Just tell me where you are." He stammered nervously._

"Uhuh, want to try that again?"

"_Ugh, no not really. But don't worry Chlo. Mr. and Mrs. K are taking care of this. Ugh Mr. K thinks he found a way to help Clark."_

Chloe perked up, and surreptitiously glanced around the empty lobby and whispered into the receiver. "You mean he figured out a way to get the ring away from him?"

"_How—how did—you," he broke off with a groan, and even through the phone line she knew Pete was pinching the bridge of his nose._

"Seriously Pete, who do you think you're talking too? So want to tell just how much of the Kent family secret you know?" her whisper was barely audible through the phone, but by the gulp she heard from Pete, he had heard her loud and clear.

"_Ugh, just how much do you know?"_

"Enough to know he can get from Smallville to Metropolis faster than Isaac Mizrahi can make an intern cry, and that he can rip a seatbelt into bit sized pieces with a flick of his fingers, oh and he has some weird allergy to meteor rocks that he passed onto the baby and me. How am I doing so far?"

Pete moans pathetically through the phone.

"_Look Chlo, we have bigger fish to fry right now. Mr. Kent is on his way too, just hang tight. He's still Clark he won't hurt you."_

"I know that, you ass!" she snapped, her grip tightening on the phone, the plastic receiver crackling under the pressure. Surprised she pulled the phone away from her ear and gapped down at her fist.

"Wow," she whispered to herself, gazing in awe as the phone seemed to groan under the slightest tightening of her fist. The sound of heavy footfalls on the marble floor startled her hand tightened and the phone shattered. Shards of plastic sailing across the room and imbedding in the walls.

"Christ," she muttered as she gazed down at her hand in amazement. Stunned she dropped what was left of the broken receiver and gazed up into proudly gleaming eyes of blue. Chloe gasped when she heard movement behind the door of the backroom, and glanced down at the bits of the broken phone. Chloe could successfully explain away a lot of oddities but a spontaneously combusting phone, was a stretch even for her.

She needn't have worried, because with a blink she was gone was flying. The glimmering windows and the streaks of white and orange flew past her eyes. With a jolt reality came running up to greet her with a slap to the face.

"Oh crap," she muttered wrenching away from Clark's grip-thankfully he let go- and sprinted for the bathroom. Chloe barely had time to drop to her knees and raise the toilet seat before she blew. Her head still buried in the porcelain bowl, she didn't hear Clark's approach until her crouched behind her. One large palm resting on the rim of the bowl beside her head, and the other smoothing her hair and down her back.

Her stomach empty, she whipped her mouth with the toilet paper Clark held out to her, and dropped the lid down, and flushed the toilet. Exhausted she allowed her body to sway into his solid chest, and allow him to hold her up.

"Feel better?" he asked softly, his hand smoothing up and down her arm.

Chloe grunted. "Yeah, peachy. Just do me a favor, no more super-speed until the morning sickness is over."

"Right." He nodded, and she allowed him to guide her body back so it was resting against his chest, as his back rested against the side of the tub. Her eyelids lowered slightly, her lashes tickling the apple of her cheeks.

"I am not alone anymore." His voice was a low-whispering- growl, but unlike before it was not a sensual purr, but gruff with emotion. Chloe knew, he hadn't intended for her to hear him, but she had and it broke her heart. Her eyes filled at his heartbreaking words.

Raising her head enough to look into his sad eyes, her hand coming to rest over his hear-clenching the fabric of his shirt- and declared vehemently. "You were never alone."

Clark showed no signs of hearing her. Those luminous eyes locked on her still flat stomach, gazing at the bunching red fabric of her tank top. His hand clenched into a fist at her hip, but Chloe could see the slight tremble in his fingers.

Then she saw it, the thick brassy gold band housing the glowing red meteor rock, the only tether that kept Kal in power.

Chloe licked her lips; now was her chance. If she played her cards right, she could fix this now.

Sliding her hand away from his chest, he used to hold himself up; she ghosted her fingertips over his clenching fist. First things first, she needed him to release his death grip. While she knew- now- that Clark was faster than a speeding bullet, she also had an inkling that he was stronger than the entire Marine Corp combined, if her little display with the phone was anything to go by. And while she had been strong enough to shatter the phone, she was unsure how to kick start that power, and the last thing she needed was him catching on and blurring to Siberia. She would never be able to pry his finger apart, and get the ring away from him before he caught on. As dense as he could be, Clark had always been far from stupid. Especially when it came to her, he owned his own Chloe manual, and it was hell to try fooling him. What she needed was to distract him. She was unsure how long they laid there in silence, his eyes never wavering from her abdomen; she was struck by an idea.

"Give me your hand." She tugged lightly at his clenched fist. By some miracle, Clark uncurled his fingers and allowed her to guide his hand. Twisting slightly, so her back was anchored against his chest, she inched the hem of her tank top up and pressed his palm to the warm flesh of her belly, her hand coming to rest on top of his.

Warmth rippled through her skin, making the muscles in her abdomen twitch beneath his palm. She gasped in surprise, glancing down at her stomach, but seeing nothing out of the ordinary.

"I feel it." Clark whispered gruffly, finally tearing his eyes away from their hands, and gazing at her with wet sparkling eyes. "I can feel it Chloe, I can feel our baby."

A single tear tumbled from his eye, and trickled down his cheek. Chloe knew it was impossible for anyone to feel the baby yet, it was barely the size of a peanut yet, but looking at his joyful eyes she knew he was telling the truth. Clark could feel their baby, and she couldn't help but feel a little jealous and a lot irritated.

"It's strong; it's just like me…but more. There's something else there…something that's just you. I don't know what it is, but it feels so warm and soothing. So very you." Hi voice was awed, and his thumb rubbed soothing circles on top of the flesh and muscle that protected their child.

"Great, you get to feel the baby and all I get to feel is smell induced morning sickness, a violent aversion to peas, and the great pleasure of blowing up like a blimp. I hate you a little, you realize that right?" She asked the last part with a surly pout.

Clark grunted, not truly hearing her. He was enamored with the gentle rippling force field that vibrated against his hand. Curiously he poked slightly at the soft flesh of Chloe's stomach; under the probing invasion the skin refused to flex. He grinned blindingly, his child was impenetrable, and b association so was Chloe.

Chloe sighed; as she watched his fingers curl and lovingly stroked her belly. As much as she wanted to get that ring from him, she couldn't seem to bring herself to intrude on this moment. While Kal might only be tickled to have another possession, Chloe knew Clark was just beneath the surface savoring the moment. Because once she released Clark, from his prison there would be tears of broken dreams, and the all-consuming fear of becoming a sixteen year old parent. Then the guilt would come, and the self-flagellation would begin and she decided he need a few more moments of peace.

Five minutes.

She could give him five more minutes.


End file.
